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"Coronation"Date: May 18, 1998  The chariot is eased to a halt, and Praetorians move to assist the passengers from it. There is a crowd of onlookers in the propylaea, though even more await the new Emperor's arrival within the Atrium. Riva and Minowee pass through the gates from the streets of Haven. A gryphon-drawn chariot stands in the middle of the courtyard, from which Lucian, Damaris, and Cassius are descending. There is a group of Praetorian guards, all standing at attention and ready to escort the young emperor-to-be into the Palladium. Riva mounts the set of steps leading into the Palladium's interior. Damaris whispers something to Lucian, but then peers around as the chariot grinds to a halt. She climbs out before Lucian, then awaits him and Cassius. She murmurs, "Deus Augustin and I will lead the way, unless Dominus Acesian is indeed inside. Follow us, Lucian, and the Praetorians will flank you." Kita passes through the gates from the streets of Haven. Damaris clears her throat. "Deus, that is." After her exchange with Lucian, she seems to have forgotten the formal address. Almost unrecognizable in formal attire, Minowee is stopped at the door by the guards, right? She's a halfbreed, after all. Lucian nods to Damaris and steps from the chariot. Eyes bright, he straightens up and glances about as he glides into place. The Praetorians have already moved to do so--flank Lucian, that is. Newly polished weapons gleam, though hopefully they are meant more for ornamentation than protection. Gathering around the small entourage, the soldiers lead the way into the Atrium. Damaris mounts the set of steps leading into the Palladium's interior. [Atrium - Palladium - Haven]
Pantoleon engages in conversation with the youthful Appolonia from time to time, and watches the arrivals. His facial expression alternates between obvious excitement at being privy to such a momentous occasion and disdain at some unknown facet of the proceedings. Kita mounts the set of steps that lead into the Palladium from the courtyard beyond. Damaris enters the Atrium, next to Cassius. Behind the two Aegians is Lucian Deiepetes, in darkly ornate coronation garb. He is solidly flanked and followed by the Praetorian Guard. Creideiki leans back in his chair. Chairs. Great invention, when you have to live on land, superseded only by the couch and the bed. Murdock mounts the set of steps that lead into the Palladium from the courtyard beyond. And now the Empyreans are beginning to arrive. Giraldine's weak and wandering gaze finds its way to the few winged creatures. Then, sees Orman Riva and beckons her over. Murdock sits at the small round table near the entrance. A group of Praetorians file into the atrium from the propylaea, neatly surrounding the young Delphic arch-mage who is to be made Emperor, as well as two members of the Aegis. They form a line on either side, allowing the three to proceed toward the center of the chamber. Two of the women with Zurain nudge the Varati-dressed woman, and one points out a well-dressed newcomer. He, a mongrel merchant of rather considerable success in the Rialto, is a familiar figure to those who shop there. Those seated nearest the seven woman may be able to hear the distinctive, derisive complaint of '...stiffed me'. Brigit avoids the crowds entering, seeking the least crowded area to hide in. She watches all the fussing with a faint frown. Rashid strides quietly into the atrium. His manner, attire, clearly Varati. He looks about to those within the atrium, lips pursed as he awaits the ceremony. He does not sit, but instead remains standing at the farthest edge of the chamber. Arianna is sitting on a marble bench, her silvery white wings folded gently against her back as her slender hands rest in her lap. Sky-blue eyes dart around the crowd with interest before flickering toward the arrival of more Empyreans. Minowee mounts the set of steps that lead into the Palladium from the courtyard beyond. Kita rushes flustered into the atrium, dressed in a formal kaftan which is not as wet as her hair, her face bedecked with a black eye and a cleaned split lip, moving quickly to one side and looking about the crowd. Lucian steps softly into the room, Praetorian flanking on all sides. He glances about with widened eyes, and manages a smile as he spies familiar faces. Riva nods and slowly makes her way in a nearly silent pace to Giraldine's side and sits beside her, the two guards flanking the women and assuming watchful but non-aggressive stances. Looking hassled, slightly damp, and not a little annoyed, Minowee steps into the Atrium and moves off to one side, keeping out of the way of potentially irritating bigoted Empyreans. Pale blue eyes directed straight ahead, and for the most part oblivious of the onlookers, Cassius of House Augustus strides alongside Damaris, matriarch of Tritonis. Near the impluvium in the middle of the atrium, a small altar has been erected, and it is here that the trio comes to a halt; the third member of the party, of course, being Lucian. Appolonia continues scanning the crowd for someone, frowning a bit as she whispers to Pantoleon, brow furrowed. Arannon mounts the set of steps that lead into the Palladium from the courtyard beyond. Usually such a loud and fiery sight, the Captain of the Memphis remains rather quiet. She speaks lowly and slowly to Orman Riva at times, and then pauses for even longer. Her mind is wandering, as are her eyes. Arannon passes into the atrium quietly, her wings keeping close to her back. Her eyes are a dark color, puffed slightly though she keeps a warm, friendly smile to her face. Looking about the atrium as she enters, her attention is drawn to Lucian. And after a moment, standing there, she steps in, towards a seat. The Praetorians maintain orderly columns on either side of the trio, standing guard, with spears held at ready. Though the weapons are probably meant merely for decoration, there is little doubt that the well-trained soldiers will not hesitate to use them, should any threat become apparent. Kita makes her way around to Giraldine on spotting her, watching the Empyrean room uncomfortably. Damaris is first to step to the altar, bowing over it, lighting an oil lamp and taking a moment of silent prayer to the gods. She then takes the oil lamp and turns, awaiting quiet from the assembly before offering a public prayer according to tradition. Arannon smiles to Arianna before joining her on a bench. "Sit." Is the one weak word emitted from Geri's mouth as Kita nears. The Atlantean guards will allow it. "And I'm not talking stiff, either," one of the women in the group around Zurain speaks, just a bit louder to another one there. There's a low laugh, a murmured series of affirmations, of understandings. The merchant in question has not deigned to notice, by all signs, but his complexion has a healthy ruddy color to it, that he did not arrive with. Arianna slides over gently on her bench as she makes room for Arannon to join her. His eyes widening at Appolonia's comment, Pantoleon straightens up and smiles impishly. Exchanging places with her, he forfeits his unobstructed view of the trio at the altar so she may have it instead. Lucian stands quietly, glancing about every now and again and feeling more than a bit out-of-place. Riva becomes somewhat restless under the tensions of the room, though little but the slight tensing along her jawline and the curling of her webbed toes for a moment indicates that. Eyes flick toward some of her countrymen and return to the person at her side. Damaris stands absolutely still, the lantern held before her, cradled in her hands as she faces Lucian. She smiles slightly at him, encouragingly, then gazes about the crowds until they hush. Cassius takes up a station opposite Damaris, after scanning the crowd and failing to see Lysander of the House Acesius. The Aegian's mouth turns down in a slight scowl, but it is eased seconds later as he waits for Damaris to begin the ceremony. Eyes widen, and Kita's mouth works soundlessly for a moment before she complies, only sitting as close to the Whip as she can manage. In such a situation it is never a bad idea to seek out familiar faces. Spotting Kita, and by extension, Giraldine, Minowee drifts in that direction while doing what she can to avoid calling attention to herself. Brigit's eyes follow Minowee for a long moment before she goes back to frowning at the crowd. Appolonia looks curiously at Pantoleon, then squints up at the altar, one hand shielding her eyes from the light. After a moment, her eyes widen, and an audible gasp followed by, "But it's LUCIAN!" is quickly silenced as she flushes a dainty pink from the part of her hair down to her sandaled toes. Rashid's mouth twitches as he looks about the hall. His attention pauses briefly on the varying groups in attendance, before it rests more heavily on the gathering of women. At Appolonia's exclamation, he looks towards her a moment, then finally back to the altar and those presiding. The Captain, looking very much like a drugged patient, nods disjointedly to Kita and Riva. Her mumbles are lost amidst the crowd. Hearing his name, the black-robed candidate looks up quickly, his eyes dancing merrily. Minowee achieves her goal and extends a hand to touch the Esper's shoulder, absently adjusting the strap on her dress as she does so. It's clear she's unaccustomed to the thing. Damaris raises the small oil lantern aloft, slowly, then lowers it again. "The House of Tritonides bears its honor to you, Lucian Deiepetes. May the light of Tritonia's wisdom be ever with you as you rule, and as you live. And may the blessings of all the gods enrobe you as Emperor and Deus." She turns, sets the oil lamp back on the altar, and stands again next to Lucian. It is Cassius' turn for a simple prayer. Appolonia pulls her hood up almost guiltily, certainly embarrassed, as she attempts to blend in with the crowd, with nothing more than an incredulous glance or two at the altar and its occupants. Hush. Zurain speaks with her hand, garnering her cronies' attention, and redirecting it to the fore. There. Look. Soundless gestures, not-quite-words, but with meaning clear behind them, Zurain's group quiets, turns attentive. Lucian's face flushes a deep crimson as his head dips to the floor. Arannon looks around the chamber for a moment, taking in those present before she nods to her companion. Primed for the opportunity to preside at this ceremony in Lysander's place, Cassius adds his prayer to that of matriarch Tritonides'. "In the name of the Kronian, whose gifts are reborn in you, the Aegis has selected Lucian Deiepetes to assume the throne of the Empyre. May your reign be as long as mighty Jupiter's. May your decisions be as just." He glances across at Damaris, signaling that it is her turn to continue. Kita glances back at Minowee, then quickly to the ceremony. His quiet laughter having subsided, Pantoleon gives Appolonia's shoulder a squeeze of encouragement. A hacking series of deep, chest-heaving, cough-like sounds emit from Giraldine. One of her companion guards kindly crack her on the back, and the cough turns to phlegm and all is right with the body again. After casting a concerned glance at the Whip, Minowee indicates the end of the chaise-lounge-beside-the-impluvium and raises a brow slightly in silent inquiry. Arannon turns to see who coughs. With a frown, she watches the broken woman before turning her attention once more to the ceremony. Her face settles to a peaceful calm. Kita nods, not bothering to check with the others also occupying it. Riva watches the proceedings closely, her demeanor quiet. A wisp of a handkerchief makes its way from Riva's belt to the coughing woman. Lucian's face pales at the words of Cassius. The full weight of what's happening seems to be sinking in, and his feet shuffle in slight nervousness. Appolonia just gives Pantoleon a look that could curdle new milk before turning the bulk of her attention towards the stage, head held high as the scarlet fades from her cheeks. Really want to do that, Riva? The handkerchief is taken and filled with whatever you'd like to imagine it being filled with. The Captain's coughs subside and subdue and in due time she turns her wavering attention back towards El Emperor-Elect, or some strange variation thereof. Minowee nods back at Kita before perching on the indicated chaise-lounge-edge, half-spreading her wings as she does so to keep from ... well, from sitting on them. Damaris continues, according to the age-old formula after naming her own family's deity, "May Divanus, he of the gateways and beginnings, bless your beginnings here." Cassius takes up the speech again with, "And may Apollo, lord of light and patron of your own beloved Delphi, shine on you and upon all of the Empyre." His pale blue eyes dart across to Damaris once more, cuing her. Rashid quietly takes the few steps to withdraw from the chamber. He offers no bow, no sign of respect, but neither does he scowl or otherwise show disgust. He merely disappears as quietly as he appeared within the atrium. Rashid passes between the columns that decorate the main entrance and disappears outside. Appolonia nods as Apollo is mentioned, glancing from Damaris to Lucian. Damaris dares to change the formula ever so slightly, as her turn occurs with the god of warfare. "May Quirinus, he of wars, bring you success, honor, and glory in your battles for justice and truth." Those who are familiar with the Empyreal coronation rites would know that the statement should have ended with the word "glory." Riva's eyes turn so they focus on Akaron Murdock for a moment as the rite continues. Arannon continues to smile as the proceedings progress. She raises a slender hand to her eyes, wiping them of warm tears as she listens. Murdock is busy watching the proceedings and etching notes into a wax tablet. The Lorekeeper is, apparently, hard at work. Cassius seems to notice the slight variation, and a narrow line bisects his brow, although he does not alter his own part of the speech. After the god of wars, naturally, that of Death would be mentioned. "Merciful Aidoneus, may he grant you a long and fruitful life, and bear you away only at the twilight of your years." Having never seen such a spectacle, Lucian remains completely unaware of the shift in words. A single bead of sweat forms at his brow and begins inching a trail down his cheek. If Giraldine was completely evil, she would note the single bead of sweat, declare all of this reality and not a strange hallucination and jump up to kill Lucian. But, that is a movie and not the game. So, in this situation, Geri simply sits watching the ceremony, dumbly, and nodding when it feels good to nod. Damaris closes this portion of the ceremony with the traditional plea for blessings from the Graiae and Tyche. With a faint smile, she intones, "And may the Fates approve of this gift, and may Tyche, she of luck, assist you." She turns to Lucian, and murmurs to him very quietly. Damaris mutters, "... to... long... ... is a... yourself..." Upon the small altar sits a simple golden circlet, and Cassius takes it up in his hands, lifting it ceremonially for all to see, before handing it to Damaris. She, apparently, will have the honor of placing the crown upon the new Emperor's head. Arannon takes a deep breath and holds it, waiting as the crown is raised and prepared to be presented. Lucian nods and steps forward to the altar. Bowing his head, his lips move in silent prayer. Mnemosyne ascends a few short steps from the garden and joins you in the Atrium. Damaris takes the circlet with a smile to Cassius, but stands aside as Lucian moves to the altar. Riva sits almost primly as she continues to watch the proceedings. Lucian's eyes close as he finishes, his hands still entwined before him. Then, with a slow breath, he settles his arms at his sides and turns back towards Damaris, nodding. Maris mounts the set of steps that lead into the Palladium from the courtyard beyond. Minowee makes a noise low in her throat that wants desperately to be a chuckle. That wouldn't be appropriate for the occasion, however, and she stifles it. Arianna's sky blue eyes watch intently as the ceremony progresses, her hands folded delicately in her lap, her posture nearly perfect. Maris enters quietly and gracefully. Her eyes quickly skim those within and she nods her respects to those deserving, then quickly moves toward her fellow Atlanteans Mnemosyne, in the shadows, scribbles in the coda she carries around her waist. Damaris smiles warmly at Lucian, and approaches. She stands facing the youth, before him and slightly to the side. With simple Empyrean elegance, and in absolute silence, she smoothly raises the golden circlet and places it atop his head. She then steps further to the side, opposite Cassius. Arannon lets out a soft, whispered breath as the circlet is placed. She then closes her eyes and lowers her head, having seen what she wished to see. Voice lifting to ring throughout the chamber, Cassius intones, "All hail Deus Lucian Deiepetes, the new Emperor of all the skies, lord of the heavens, and ruler of the Empyre." He then bows, deeply, and this seems to be a signal for all others to do likewise. Damaris chimes, more simply, "Long Live the Emperor!" And bows low herself. Arannon stands from where she was seated, only to curtsy elegantly where she stood. Her wings spread outward, heightening the elegance of the act. She says, her voice carrying, "Long live the Emperor." Mnemosyne tries not to drop her graphite as she hops up to bow very deeply, echoing sentiments. Lucian's eyes seem to cloud over as he looks about the room. His lips move in silent disbelief as the spectacle presents itself. Brigit shifts backwards from all the spreading wings, frown growing. Unfortunately, as the rest of the crowd lifts their voices in applause and happiness, a small, strange-sounding noise is heard at the seats containing Minowee, Kita, and Riva also. It sounds like a snore. Giraldine, mighty Captain of the Memphis, is asleep. Maris watches the passing of the crown. She stands, facing Lucian and bows deeply to him before erecting herself. Appolonia bows just low enough, eyes downcast, sparing but a brief glance at the face of the young Emperor. Kita, for one, doesn't seem to notice, her attention fully on Lucian. A couple Praetorians notice that grinding snore and, frowning, move toward the small party, prepared to eject them from the Palladium for making such a disturbance. Well, that's certainly a cue of some sort. As Maris straightens from her bow, Creideiki rises up from his seat and bows low as well, some murmured well-wishing escaping his lips before he returns to his seat. In typical upstart halfbreed style, Minowee declines to prostrate herself before her friend. She doesn't bow, doesn't grovel or scrape, just smiles. If the Praetorians have caught her attention, she gives no indication. Pantoleon also intones, "Hail Deus Lucian Deiepetes!" and bows to his emperor. Arianna stands slowly as her knees bend into a deep and elegant curtsey, large white wings spreading wide as she says in a soft, delicate voice, "Long live the Emperor," as she bows her head in respect. Silvery highlights from feathers glisten as Arianna folds them back once more and takes her seat once again. Damaris rises again, after a thoroughly honorable period of time, watching Lucian with pleasure but also with concern. Hopefully he won't swoon. Mnemosyne scribbles notes down concerning all events in the Atrium. Cassius straightens from his bow and finally turns his gaze upon the room, taking note of who is present. Upon noticing his daughter, Arianna, execute her graceful curtsey, a slight smile curls his thin lips, and he nods approvingly. Maris then turns back to her table and sits slowly and gracefully, folding her hands before her Lucian steps forward, eyes shining brightly. He nods once to Damaris and Cassius, and then waits for the crowd to quiet down. "Friends..." he begins. Riva shakes her head as the Captain slumps against her and signals her guards to support the woman. She looks into their eyes, perhaps as if imparting some information to them. Freeing herself as the two support the woman, she presents the appropriate respectful acknowledgments to the newly-crowned Lucian, diplomatically attempting to avoid anything which might cause censure. Arianna folds her hands once more into her lap as she gives her father a soft, gentle smile before large, sky-blue eyes flicker towards Lucian as his words begin. Cassius' attention swivels immediately to Lucian as the Emperor speaks, and mild consternation beetles his brow. But he does not move to interrupt the young man--he'll wait to hear what he has to say, first. The snoring isn't that loud, really, just strangely out of place. The Captain, never known to fall asleep at any gathering, even those of the drunken sort, wraps her arms around one of the guards. Ew. Drool. Damaris folds her hands before her, smiling pleasantly, wondering what the new Emperor has to say. Generic and largely unidentifiable, except by their profession, and that one known only at night, and often by the docks, Zurain and her company of cohorts trace their way out before the press begins at an escape. One woman does break off to mention to the previously pointed-out merchant-man, with a smile, "We got a networks, see," she speaks quietly and with a wicked gleam of a smile, "And now we all knows what you look like. So next time you pay triple, for not having paid me once." Then she traipses off to join her friends, leaving the merchant's wife- a late arrival--to stare at that red-faced man. Scowling upon finding himself manhandled (or is it woman-handled) by the snoring Captain, the Praetor she'd latched onto nods to some of his fellow soldiers, and a group of Praetorians moves to 'escort' Giraldine from the premises as efficiently--and quietly--as possible. Lucian takes a deep breath, his face still paled. "I have never been one for long speeches. This evening transcends anything I have ever experienced, and anything I could have hoped for. Many of you..." His eyes scan the crowd, "...have known me for a long while here in Haven. You know that I am no expert at politics, and the grace with which these two are able to speak--" His hands shift to indicate Damaris and Cassius, "--are skills unknown to me." Arannon returns to her seat, quietly, her wings slightly spread behind her as she rests on the bench. She maintains her attention on Lucian. Being panhandled, um, MAN-handled, or CAPTAIN-handled in this case, awakes the Captain. "Huh? Wha....? Hey!" She pushes against the Praetor. Zurain passes between the columns that decorate the main entrance and disappears outside. Damaris peruses Cassius' face, curious as to what he's thinking of these words. Her own expression remains pleasant, encouraging. Quickly, the Praetorians attempt to remove Giraldine from the Palladium, the one she'd grabbed now returning the favor, while a couple of others prepare to help him if she decides to put up a fight. Lucian continues. "But I do know one thing: the value of truth. I cannot say for certain that I will be a wise leader, or be able to proceed with honeyed words. I do not know that I will make a skillful general, or even be much of a statesman. But I do know that I will perform my duties to the Empyre--and indeed, to all of you whom I have known--to the best of my abilities, and with as fair a hand as I am capable." Arannon turns at the sound of what seems to be an annoyed captain. She frowns, but remains otherwise silent before looking back to Lucian, and listening to his words. Minowee's attention is distracted from Lucian by the whole Giraldine thing. Arching her wings slightly, she moves as if to stand. Cassius' own expression is impassive, save for those frosty eyes. He, like most others here, is watching the new Emperor, but if he is pleased by his speech, his countenance does not reveal it. He merely stands nearby, hands folded, and listens. Mnemosyne looks at Lucian with twinkly-eyed admiration before she recalls she should be writing this all down. "Hey," The Captain cries to the Praetorians, "Lemme go! I want to hear the Emperor." Doesn't that sound lovely. She adds weight to the word. Lucian's gaze locks on several figures. "Many of you are aware of the strife between my people and others in the lands. Before me, as one of his final actions, Justinius sued for peace between all peoples. Here and now, before all, I say that I will uphold what he started. I do not wish to see any more blood shed to senseless battles raged over forgotten insult!" Maris' eyes are diverted between Lucian and her table-mates. Yet her expression never changes... a warm, almost maternal look about her, with a hint of amusement. Damaris's eyes crinkle as she smile more widely. She intones, "Hear, hear!" Not quite an exclamation, but not a murmur, either. Cassius takes an abrupt step forward at the young Emperor's pronouncement, and his icy-blue eyes grow only more glacial as a scowl presents itself on his features. Now is not the time for dispute, however. After that initial step, the lord of House Augustus calms himself, merely praying that the boy will end his speech soon. Riva makes a low sound in her throat as she casts a sharp, cautioning glance at the Whip. The glance then extends to the guards who, once the Captain is aroused, behave in a more circumspect manner. Looking every inch her father's daughter, Riva fixes her gaze on Giraldine as if to caution her. Lucian lowers his arms once more to his sides. "I thank you all for your well-wishes. May peace and prosperity be with each of you, and your kin." With that, he steps back to his place between Damaris and Cassius. Brigit mutters softly and slips out without touching anyone. She disappears between two columns and into the Palladium's garden. Appolonia sighs heavily, shaking her head almost imperceptibly as she looks at Lucian with something akin to dread. Damaris' smile tightens a bit as she notices Cassius' jerk to action, but as Lucian approaches, she nods to him. "Well said, Deus," she murmurs. Cassius' lips curl in a thin, patently false smile. "Indeed," he agrees. "Already the skills of an orator are making themselves apparent." Lucian smiles to Damaris, and then looks back to the crowd. His hands entwine for a moment, lips moving rapidly. A soft breeze stirs through the room, carrying the fragrant scent of the garden's flowers upon the winds. Damaris lightly touches Lucian's elbow, encouraging him to proceed down the aisle of Praetorians into the Palladium proper. With a glance toward the group of Praetorians who are still trying to eject the vocal Captain from the premises, Cassius gestures to the boy-Emperor. "Shall I escort you to your new chambers, Deus?" Maris looks to those seated with her, yet it looks as if some silent messages are being passed between the three. She looks satisfied for some reason, and turns her gaze back to the young Emperor as he leaves the room, her gaze respectful and gracious as the Atlantean Ambassador considers him quietly. Kita stiffens at Cassius' words, but remains silently seated. Arianna smiles softly as she watches Lucian, listening to his words. Her sky-blue eyes flicker over her father's form occasionally to judge his reaction before returning to the new Emperor. Mnemosyne strained to hear what was said on the rise, but giving that up, sketches facial expressions on a blank page. Wouldn't it be lovely if this were a cartoon? Geri would go boiiiing and really be ejected out of the area. But, she's quietly trying to stay, pulling away from the guards. "Hey, I'm not hurting anyone." This is tricky. The Chief Herald does her best to divide her attention between the-whole-Giraldine-thing and the group by the altar. Lucian nods. "Thank you, Cassius." He turns and moves down the aisle, silently moving from the room. Lucian smiles once more to Damaris, gives a final glance around the room, and steps out, his guardsmen closing in behind. Arannon waits until Lucian has started to depart before she makes her way from the atrium. "Nor will you be allowed to," growls one of the Praetorians to the Captain of the Memphis, as he all but bodily hauls her toward the exit. A trio of Praetorians surround her, prepared to assist. Half of the Praetorians shift to accompany the trio as they exit the Atrium. Others stay to make sure order is maintained. Damaris disappears between two columns and into the Palladium's garden. Kita hesitantly stands, looking after Lucian. The Captain lets out a flavorful, "Ow!" as she is led out of the Palladium and kindly deposited on her rear. [Garden - Palladium - Haven]
Those Praetorians who did not stay behind to maintain order in the Atrium now escort their new charge, as well as Cassius, toward the living quarters of the Palladium. "This way, Deus," Cassius murmurs politely, after watching Damaris take her leave. He takes the lead, moving toward the inner courtyard of the Palladium. [Inner Courtyard - Living Quarters - Palladium - Haven]
Lucian steps into the living quarters from the garden. Pantoleon and Appolonia step into the living quarters from the garden. A couple of Praetorians immediately take up positions on either side of the entrance into the Emperor's quarters, and it is likely that at least two of them will be in attendance from now on, posted outside the door. Presumably, it is for the young Emperor's protection. Of course, it could also be to prevent him from leaving. Either way, the stern-faced Praetorians stand sentinel as Cassius leads Lucian toward his new "home." Lucian looks at the door, and the guards. Turning to Cassius, his brow raised quizzically, "Will I not be permitted to stay in the Tower?" Pantoleon walks lightly along towards his quarters, chatting with Appolonia. He pauses as he sees the new Emperor and bows respectfully. Smiling pleasantly--one which is at odds with those wintry eyes, Cassius responds, "This is your home now, Deus. As is all of the Empyre. Surely you will find these accommodations more to your liking...?" With that, he opens the ornate door leading into the Emperor's chambers, and stands aside to allow Lucian to pass through first. Lucian's head inclines in greeting to Pantoleon, and flashes a wide smile at Appolonia. Noting her expression, he realizes with a chuckle that he forgot to tell her about this. Returning Cassius' smile, Lucian nods. "I'm sure I will. Thank you..." With that, he steps into his new home.
FIN
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